


the sun I found

by evocates



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/pseuds/evocates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo tries to name his new book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sun I found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noalinnea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noalinnea/gifts).



> For noalinnea's prompt [“birth”](http://evocates.livejournal.com/209157.html?thread=3116037#t3116037)

“It's like choosing a name for a baby, you know?” Viggo said, his hand stroking over paper, over and over. “I can't just... pick something. I made this for both of us.”

Sean, draped on the opposite couch with his reading glasses perched on his nose, stared at Viggo across the coffee table. He deliberately swung his legs up, heels going _thunk_ against polished wood. “You're giving yourself an aneurysm over this for no good reason,” he drawled. “Use a metaphor, a poetic-sounding description, or even an adjective.” He waved a hand. “Something like that.”

Viggo blinked, “Why?”

“Well, that's what you've been using for the ones you've got, aye?”

“But this is special,” Viggo protested immediately. “This is not just mine but yours as well, something that we made together.” He looked back down at the blank page as if he believed that words would pop out of it, fully-formed and absolutely perfect, if he stared hard enough. But Viggo knew the caprices of inspiration well enough, and he stopped after a minute of eyeballing paper, cocking his head at Sean.

“Why don't you suggest something?”

“Me?” Sean blinked at him. He (finally!) closed the book he was reading, leaning forward and taking Viggo's hands into his own. “Vig, I don't title _anything_.”

“Yes, yes, composer of the masterpiece da-da-da di da-di,” Viggo lifted Sean's hand, pressing a soft kiss against the back. “Try for me?”

“Don't mock that title. It's plenty descriptive - you know what I'm talking 'bout when I say it, aye?” Sean tried to frown, but his eyes were dancing. “Look, what's the metaphor you keep overusing when describing me?”

“It's not overused if it's entirely appropriate,” Viggo denied. His knee smacked a little too hard against the table top, but he ignored the shot of pain to slide fingers into Sean's hair. “I called you my sun.”

“In case you haven't noticed because of your old, failing eyes, Vig, me hair's brown nowadays,” Sean shot back tartly. He grinned up to Viggo. “Why not call it 'photographing the sun' or something like that? Plenty descriptive, and it's even a little clever.”

Viggo didn't answer. He froze for a long moment, his lips parted and eyes wide as he stared at Sean. Sean blinked, reaching up and poking Viggo gently on the nose. “Earth to Vig?”

“ _The sun I found_ ,” Viggo whispered. His hands slipped down, thumbs grazing Sean's cheekbones downwards, following the lines of his face until they curve over the collarbones and he gripped tight to those strong arms. “That's _perfect_.”

“I didn't say anything near that pretty,” Sean said, only half protesting. He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss against Viggo's wrist. “But that sounds like a good title, aye.”

Not even listening by not, Viggo clambered over the coffee table fully. He could hear pens and pencils falling onto the hardwood floor, but his attention was fully fixed on Sean's mouth, Sean's eyes, and he kissed him hard, tasting the sun he found and breathing in his heat.

“Shouldn't you write down the title before you forget it?” Sean murmured, words half-muffled and mangled by Viggo's tongue.

“Nah,” Viggo said, laughing. “You can remember it for me.”

_End_


End file.
